


Lies of Necessity

by still_lycoris



Series: A Lie Hurts Forever [3]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Pregnancy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-22
Updated: 2008-11-22
Packaged: 2019-10-13 11:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: It's nearly Sayu's first wedding anniversary but she's not really sure that there's anything to celebrate.





	Lies of Necessity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the dn_contest prompt "anniversary"

If she was honest with herself, Sayu wasn’t very interested in her wedding anniversary.

Her friends all expected her to be. They kept asking her if she had any plans, if Teru-kun was going to surprise her, if they were going away.

“I’m sure he’ll want to do _something_ ,” Toshiko said, smiling. “After all, it’ll be your only anniversary before … well, you know.”

Sayu _did_ know. She hadn’t meant to get pregnant so quickly. It had just happened. She supposed that she was lucky – so far it had been an easy pregnancy. She’d suffered almost nothing of morning sickness or painful breasts or swollen ankles. Her bump wasn’t even uncomfortably big. In fact, her worst problem was that her libido had rocked and Teru hadn’t laid a hand on her since her pregnancy had been confirmed. Not that he tended to lay much of a hand on her anyway but still. Still.

At any rate, she didn’t think that the wedding anniversary was very prevalent in Teru’s mind. He’d shown more joy on January 28th, talking non-stop about how this time last year, the New World had begun and he’d been there, he’d been there to _see_ it and it was _perfect_ , beautiful and wonderful and everything was so perfect now …

Sayu didn’t think anything was perfect. But she knew better than to say. She supposed that really, she couldn’t complain. Really, she and Teru had quite a good marriage. They didn’t actively hate each other. Teru was almost always polite and concerned about her needs. He never mocked her when she had her nightmares about her kidnap, offering gentle comfort and kindness. He earned good money, he was well-respected and he was clever. He was solicitous of her sexual desires for the most part, never attempting to force her if she wasn’t interested and always taking care not to hurt her. Really, Sayu supposed it was very like she imagined her parents marriage to have been. And that was no bad thing really, was it? Her parents marriage had been content as far as she knew. Her mother still spoke of it with fondness and they’d rarely fought, even over Soichiro’s long hours.

Only Sayu had always wanted _more_ than that. She’d wanted dramatic passion and love and things like that. She’d wanted something _special_ , not something she had to settle for. She wanted someone she could talk properly to. She and Teru didn’t do conversations very well. Sayu was always conscious of what she _couldn’t_ say, what needed avoiding. Things like Kira and crime and her brother. Not that _Teru_ would have minded talking about her brother. Teru _relished_ conversations about Light. He always wanted more detail about Light, anything at all. Childhood, adulthood – anything. It was _Sayu_ who had no interest in conversations regarding Light Yagami. Sayu who had no interest in listening to her bother’s many virtues being extolled over and over.

That had been something else she would have specified about a perfect marriage. Her husband wouldn’t have been hopelessly in love with her brother.

Sayu had stopped lying to herself about this. There was no point any more. Even without other evidence, it was blatant that Teru was obsessed with Light. His face lit up when Light’s name was mentioned, he talked about Light endlessly and whenever Light was there, he practically slavered at Light’s feet.

And then there was the fact that Sayu had … other evidence.

She’d come downstairs because she’d wanted to see if Teru was planning on coming up to bed soon and if he wasn’t, could she turn the light off? She hadn’t actually known that Light was there until she’d heard his voice murmuring Teru’s name. Something about it had checked her and she’d crept closer to the door rather than walked and peered through.

They were pressed close over the desk, looking at something. Teru was scribbling feverishly, mumbling “Sakujo.” over and over under his breath. Light was watching him, smiling a horrible too-big smile and running his fingers almost roughly through Teru’s hair. Teru looked up, his eyes glowing with a fanatical glee. He reached up and caught Light’s shoulder, then yanked Light down into a kiss. Light gave a greedy sort of sigh and kissed back, fingers tangled in Teru’s hair, making soft moaning noises into Teru’s mouth. Teru whimpered in a way that Sayu had never imagined he could, his other hand coming up to grasp Light’s waist, kissing and kissing as though he never wanted to stop.

“Teru, you know we mustn’t,” Light said lazily, fingers tracing patterns in Teru’s hair and on his shoulders. “You know … ”

“I know,” Teru whimpered, pressing his face into Light’s shoulder. “I know, I know, I won’t … I’m not … Kami, precious Kami … ”

Sayu hadn’t waited to see if Light would follow up his protests or not. She left, going upstairs and turning all the lights off. Spitefully, she found herself hoping that Teru would break his neck on the way down.

He didn’t thought. And Sayu had never mentioned what she’d seen. She asked him the next day if he and Light had had a good time and Teru had said they had, adding that Light-san had given her his love and promised to write soon – he had gone away again. Light was often away these days. He travelled and what he did while travelling, Sayu didn’t want to know. Misa sometimes went with him, sometimes she didn’t. Whatever was happening, where Light went, things seemed to change and Sayu didn’t know what to think about it. Or perhaps it was more that she _did_ know, she simply didn’t want to think. Either worked, she supposed. She hadn’t known what to think for so long now. After she’d been kidnapped, she’d even forgotten _how_ to think of a while, living in a horrible cold black world where she couldn’t do anything but sit and remember horrible things. Sometimes that still crept up on her and she had to sit down and whimper and if Teru was there, he put his arms around her and whispered that it was all right, that he was here, that nothing would ever happen to her again and for a short while, she’d almost feel that she loved him or at least could care for him. He did at least help with that. Without him, sometimes she almost slipped back to what she’d been the last time she’d seen her father.

That was another reason she was reluctant to celebrate her wedding anniversary. Too many other unpleasant anniversaries around it. She wanted to forget her brutal kidnap, those horrible men and the awfulness of that journey. She wanted to forget that she’d lost herself afterwards, that it had been so awful, that she’d hardly said goodbye to her father before he’d left to his death …

“If it’s a boy, we can name him after your father, if you wish,” Teru had said shyly on one of the days when Sayu had returned from a scan. Sayu had simply shrugged in response. She wasn’t sure she wanted to remember her father like that. She wasn’t quite sure how she thought about her father. It was all tied up in a black sort of misery, horrible memories of pain and distress and Light calmly stating _“I am Kira.”_

She woke up on the morning of her anniversary feeling miserable. Teru was up before her, as he always was. He hated to sleep late. Sayu slowly got up and dressed, rubbing her stomach when the baby kicked. It was kicking more than ever now, almost impatiently. She wondered if she and Light had kicked her mother this much. Who knew? She couldn’t quite discuss it with her mother. It was too embarrassing to mention such details. Her mother had told her things of course but not intimate details. Sayu didn’t _want_ intimate details.

She was slightly surprised to find Teru was still at the breakfast table when she got downstairs. He was reading a piece of paper and his eyes were shining.

“Your brother’s back!” he said the moment Sayu had sat down. “He called. He’s going to come and visit tonight!”

Sayu felt an urge to throw her breakfast plate at Teru’s head. The fact that she didn’t feel much like celebrating didn’t mean that she wouldn’t have liked some sort of consultation. Some sort of _consideration_ regarding whether or not she wanted her brother there for her wedding anniversary.

But then, she thought drearily, it wasn’t like she hadn’t known. Her marriage to Teru had been less about their union and more about Teru’s union to Light. She’d _known_ that. Hadn’t she?

Teru didn’t seem to have noticed her discomfort. He was gleefully gabbling about how long it had been since Light had been home, how much he’d missed having Light around.

“I don’t know why it makes a difference,” Sayu said. “You E-mail each other every day anyway.”

Teru blinked, apparently a little hurt. Perhaps Sayu had been a little more acid than she’d intended. Somehow, she couldn’t quite care.

“E-mail is business,” Teru said at last and he sounded so lost that Sayu found herself feeling annoyingly guilt. Bother him for being so sad. Bother him for being so small and needy and lost. Bother him for marrying her when all he really wanted was her too-damn-perfect brother.

“I expect Misa will be glad to see him,” she said, a little cruelly. “She’ll have been missing him too.”

Teru’s shoulders tensed. He hated Misa which didn’t matter so much as Misa hated him too. When Sayu wanted to see Misa, she had to go to her home or they had to meet in town. Otherwise, Teru and Misa just spat poison at each other and ignored Sayu altogether.

(sometimes she wondered if it was perhaps her fault. If she did something wrong that that was why she was so easily ignored and dismissed. Was she really that inferior to everyone else? Just because she wasn’t gorgeous or a genius? She was a nice person, wasn’t she? Wasn’t that enough?)

“I suppose Amane-san will be pleased enough,” Teru said, his voice chilly. “I hope she has organised a proper welcome for him. He will need some good food. I am sure he does not eat properly.”

Sayu could believe that. Light was thinner than he’d ever been, bony and angular. Somehow, it didn’t seem to make him any less attractive. Perhaps Light was just always going to be gorgeous and Sayu was … not. Teru cared more about Light’s diet than hers.

(no, that wasn’t fair. When she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d looked up everything he could about pregnancy. She’d found herself being given lists of food she could eat and what she should avoid. Lists of healthy exercise and activities she could do. He’d checked her health every step of the way. He _did_ feel anxious about her. Or did he just worry about her as an incubator and not as a person?)

“Perhaps he will come and eat here,” Teru said hopefully.

Sayu said nothing. All sorts of tart remarks were in her head but she didn’t voice any of them. She’d always been good at that. Oil on troubled waters, quiet peacemaker. Except at home where even that hadn’t been enough and she’d been the more troublesome child no matter what. The failure, the disappointment. Now she was still pushed to the side while Light did … what?

She tried not to think about that. Lots of people did that really. They knew that Kira was on the rise. Everyone had seen the videos Kira had released, talking about his new world, asking for co-operation and understanding and common sense.

Sayu felt sick when she saw them.

Teru went to work, still shining from the news. Sayu drew. She had taken to drawing a lot lately. It felt safe, an occupation where she could do anything without getting into trouble. She could draw her upset and anger without it meaning anything to anyone else. Teru mostly ignored her drawings. He preferred more regular art, classical stuff. Sayu’s abstract creations were too much for him.

Her mother called and asked if she wanted a visitor to cook her lunch. Sayu agreed readily. She liked to see her mother, even if Sachiko was a very different person these days. Sayu liked to know that her mother was still alive.

Sachiko was also much thinner these days. Where her cheeks had once been round, they were now gaunt and unlike Light, it did not suit her. Her eyes were blank a lot of the time and her hands trembled regularly. Sayu suspected her mother was suffering from serious depression. Sachiko claimed that she was not and anyway, there was nothing that could be done. Sayu understood the feeling, although she disagreed that there was nothing that could be done. But they had never been a family easily acquired others help. That was how it was. So Sayu simply did her best to help her mother and comfort her.

Sachiko knew the date of course. She gave Sayu a hug and told her how she was glowing with pregnancy. Sayu wasn’t sure she believed it but she smiled and nodded and kept her mother company while she cooked. Sachiko knew that Light was coming home. She did not say whether or not Light planned to visit her. Sayu supposed that he would but she wasn’t sure. Although neither of them said it, she knew that things were strained between Light and Sachiko. She was spitefully smug about it. How could she not be? The perfect son, not so perfect and the not-so-perfect daughter, now much more respected. Except it didn’t mean much any more.

“Did you and Dad celebrate your wedding anniversary? Your first one?”

She didn’t know why she asked but she felt that she needed to. Sachiko considered the question, playing with her chopsticks.

“He was due to be working that day,” she said at last, her voice soft and distracted. “I was disappointed but I understood. He gave me a box of chocolates and promised that he wouldn’t be late. I wasn’t so sure but I hoped. I hoped. And then … then as I was sitting there, he arrived. He arrived early. He took me out for a meal. I never forgot that when he had to miss other anniversaries, other days. Your father always tried and when it really mattered, he was always there. It wouldn’t have been enough for everyone but it was enough for me.”

She gave a dull sigh and looked away. Once, saying things like that might have made her cry but she didn’t seem to have the energy for tears any more when it came to memories of Soichiro. Sayu sat quite still and tried not to cry herself. She wondered if Teru would ever leave work early for her and her near-tears became laughter. What a ludicrous thought.

When her mother left, Sayu went back to drawing. She used a dull black-red and smeared it all over the paper, then drew a tiny pink blot at the bottom. At the top, she drew a ghostly grey smoke that could almost be a human with outstretched arms. She drew more tiny pink dogs, all huddled together at the bottom. She drew seven black lightning bolts coming down from the grey smoke. Then she cried.

She watched TV after that, writing next weeks menu as she did. Teru liked to know what he would be eating each day. He originally had wanted to eat the same things every week all the time but Sayu had refused that. She couldn’t cope with the boredom. So they had compromised, a menu was written each week in advance so Teru could prepare himself. Sayu had not expected that sort of compromise in marriage. She hadn’t expected many things.

Teru arrived home at his usual time. He greeted her with a polite kiss on the check and promptly vanished into his study as he always did. Sayu never asked what he did in that hour. She suspected a lot of it was “special” business and she didn’t want to know more. Did that make her a coward? One of those people who knew that terrible things happened close by but put their hands over their ears and pretended not to see? Probably. Her father would never have approved. But he wasn’t there to protect her, there was no one there to protect her and Sayu had to try and puzzle through for herself.

Light did not arrive for dinner. Teru looked slightly mournful and Sayu ignored him. The meal didn’t seem to agree with her, to her surprise – she hadn’t had any problems with food so far in pregnancy except for a very odd craving for consommé flavoured crisps which Teru had indulged for her, bringing her bags and bags of them every day after work. He’d never made any jokes about them making her fat or anything like that. He’d told her that she should eat what she felt she needed unless it would be bad for the baby. He _did_ try. He _did_.

But had it been too much to hope that he might acknowledge their anniversary? The supposed happiest day in their lives? She didn’t need anything much but something? Just something to show that she, Sayu, mattered to _someone?_

She read after dinner while Teru worked. It was a companionable enough silence, Sayu supposed. That was okay too. They were no longer intensely uncomfortable around each other and she was grateful for that at least. When they’d first married, silences had had to be endured and they had been quite, quite awful. But now, that was better. Some things were better. Perhaps she was simply being selfish? Teru was who he was and even if he had chosen her himself, would he ever really have been the type to celebrate an anniversary? It wasn’t a personal snub, it was just who he was. And she could have specifically said, couldn’t she? She could have said “Teru, I want to do something for our anniversary.” If she’d _really_ wanted to do something. But then, it _wasn’t_ exactly that she wanted to do something, it was that she wanted him to show her that she mattered to him. That she was important. That Light wasn’t really the one guiding force in their lives.

Her stomach ached and she felt tired. Eventually, she put her book down and miserably told Teru that she was going to bed. She half-hoped he might come up with her and offer her a cuddle, some comfort, even just ask if she was okay but he didn’t. He nodded distractedly at her, said he would try not to disturb her and looked back down at his papers. With a miserable sigh, Sayu went to bed. Her bump was bothering her tonight. She wished this pregnancy was over. Maybe that she was why she was feeling so droopy over the anniversary. Over everything. Maybe it was just that life really was that awful.

She half-stirred from a doze when the front door closed but not enough to really wake. She drifted in and out of an uncomfortable sleep, dreaming that her father came and cried with her but she wasn’t sure why either of them were crying. Her mother was there sometimes and so was Misa and even Matsuda but Light never was and Sayu supposed dreamily that maybe that was the cause of the tears.

She suddenly woke, conscious of a grinding sort of pain inside her and a wet sort of feeling between her legs. She knew at once what it was and kicked herself for not realising the source of her early discomfort. The baby was coming. For a moment, she panicked, it was early, it wasn’t time but she checked herself. It wasn’t that early and labour could go on for a while. There was no need to get in a state and so she wouldn’t. Carefully, she got out of bed and wrapped a dressing gown around herself. She would go and tell Teru and ask him if he would be comfortable driving her to hospital.

She padded downstairs, wrapping her dressing gown around her and rubbing her stomach gently. The hall was dark and for a moment, she couldn’t understand what was puzzling her about this but then it came to her: there was no light coming from under the living room door. Where on earth was Teru? Had he and Light gone out somewhere?

A muffled sound from the living room. Without thinking, Sayu took a step towards the door, eyes fixed on darkness. Another muffled sound, some sort of movement and then Teru’s voice: “ _Kami …_ ”

Sayu knew then. Her stomach cramped and it wasn’t from labour. Her fists clenched and she struggled to breathe. Stumbling forwards, she flicked the light on and stared silently at them both. Light was lying on top of Teru on the couch, arms wrapped around Teru’s body. For a few seconds, they remained locked in their passionate kiss before they realised what had happened and they parted, staring owlishly at her. As Sayu stared at them, a flash of annoyance flickered briefly over Light’s face. A flash of annoyance that Sayu had dared, had _dared_ to interrupt his tryst with _her_ husband.

She wasn’t aware of moving, not really. She was suddenly aware that she was by the couch and one hand was wrapped in Light’s hair, yanking his head backwards, her other hand scrabbling at her face. Light bellowed furiously and jerked upwards, his hands lashing out but Sayu ignored it. All she could think was that she had had enough, she’d had _enough_ , she would rip out his eyes, she would ruin that pretty face, she would _kill_ him …

Teru’s arms grabbed hers. She yanked her back and Sayu felt a giddy sort of satisfaction when some of Light’s hair came in her hands. Teru was shaking her, his face livid with face, he looked as though he might slap her.

“How dare you, how _dare_ you?” he screamed and Sayu almost laughed at the sheer _unreasonableness_ of it all, the sheer _injustice_ of her husband being caught with another man and blaming _her_. Instead, she shook as another contraction tore through her, sharper and harder this time. Light had managed to get to his feet, blood trickling from scratches on his face, his eyes wide with shock.

“Teru, let her go,” he said, his voice shaky and Sayu couldn’t tell if it was with rage or shock. “Let her go.”

“Bastard,” she hissed at him. “I hate you. I hate you so much. You’re a bastard, you’re a _pig_ , you’re a – ”

“Stop it! _Stop it!_ ” Teru screeched and he shook her again. “How dare you speak to Kami like that, you bitch, I’ll _kill_ you – ”

“ _Teru!_ ” Light shouted and his rage was clear now. “How _dare_ you threaten my sister?”

Teru stopped speaking. He was shaking now, his hands loose on Sayu’s arms. She shook him off and turned away from Light to stare coldly at her husband.

“It may interest you to know,” she said, her voice dripping with ice. “that my labour has started. If you would be so good as to drive me to hospital, I would be grateful.”

He stared at her as though she were mad. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt unfastened and there was a purpling mark on his neck. Sayu had never left a mark there. She’d always been gentle, careful with him. Shy and passive. Maybe that wasn’t what he’d wanted. Maybe he’d wanted someone like Light to pin him and bite him and _fuck_ him. Maybe …

“Teru, go and call an ambulance,” Light said quietly. “Sayu, sit down on the couch.”

She might have disobeyed for spite but Teru instantly acted, pushing her onto the couch and then walking out of the room. Sayu clenched her hands together and looked up at Light’s face. He still made no effort to check the blood and it was dripping onto his open collar.

“Hello little sister,” he said quietly.

“Fuck you,” she said drearily.

“Stop it,” he ordered her. “Stop being this way. It wasn’t meant to hurt you, can you understand that? This was never meant … ”

“Shut up!” she snarled. “You can’t say anything to me, Light! What can you say to make it right? All that matters is what _you_ want and you don’t care about anyone else. Have you been to see Mum yet? Do you know how miserable she is? Do you know how horrible everything is because of _you?_ ”

He stared at her, shaking. He was playing with his watch, pulling at it and she half-hoped that he’d end up breaking the thing. Dad had given him that watch. Light had loved it so much and she’d been so jealous. How childish she was.

“Stop it Sayu,” Light whispered. “Please stop it. I don’t … you’ll make Teru hate you, that’s not what I want, I don’t want this … ”

“Why is what you want so important?” Sayu asked coolly. “Why is it always more important than what I want?”

“ _Stop it, Sayu!_ ” he shouted at her and she felt another contraction go through her. It hurt more than the others and she gave a soft sob. Light stared at her, then slumped onto the sofa beside her and put his arms around her.

“Stop it,” he whispered. “I love you, why are you doing this to me? You think I want to make you unhappy?”

“Then why are you doing this?” she whispered back. “Why are you _hurting_ me? Why are you hurting all of us?”

He didn’t answer her, just stroked her back and hair gently. He was trembling and Sayu wondered if he was crying. Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was shaking with anger that she’d fought back, that she was being angry with him. She didn’t know Light. Maybe she’d never know him. Never understand him. She’d thought she’d been close to him once, that she’d known him in a way. And now she didn’t. Now she knew nothing. She was a stupid, lost little girl again and maybe she’d never claw her way out of that.

Teru came back in and stared at them both. He fiddled with his collar and then looked away, his hair falling over his face. His shoulders had slumped and Sayu wondered wretchedly why she felt sorry for him. He didn’t deserve sympathy and yet she felt it. Why?

Blankly, she looked at the clock. It was thirty-five past twelve.

“It’s not my anniversary any more,” she said out-loud, looking at the wall. “That’s good, isn’t it? We can have a joint party anyway, Teru. Won’t that be nice?”

He stared at her. Light sat back and stared at her too.

“It was your wedding anniversary?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “I’d forgotten.”

Sayu began to laugh. 

*

Her son was born at eight o’clock that night. Her mother came and sat with her for most of it. Sayu didn’t ask where Teru was. He’d probably gone to work as usual. Or was with Light.

She didn’t tell her mother what she’d seen. She couldn’t bring herself. Sachiko already knew really anyway. They all had known. It was just different to see it, different to _have_ to accept it instead of pretending it wasn’t true to get through the day. Better, Sayu thought with some maliciousness, to leave Light worrying that Sayu might drop the bomb, ruin the last shreds of reputation that he had with their mother. If he was human enough to care any more what his mother thought.

When the baby was put into her arms, Sayu didn’t feel the rush of love that she’d been assured she would but it wasn’t a bad feeling. She felt a vague warm feeling though, a protective feeling. This baby was so _tiny_. He needed her. Who would take care of him if she wasn’t there?

“Did you decide on a name yet?” Sachiko asked hopefully.

“No,” Sayu said. “But I will.”

Light and Teru came in a bit later. Light had cleaned up his cuts and had a plaster over one of them. Sachiko looked surprised but she didn’t ask what had happened. Sayu met Raitio’s eyes briefly and the look was short and yet endless. She wondered if they’d ever speak again. Teru shyly sat down next to her and lifted the baby up in his arms, staring. His expression was almost child-like, bewildered, terrified and entranced.

“He’s tiny,” he said. “Look at him, Sayu! He’s _tiny_.”

“Light, we should leave them alone,” Sachiko said. “Come on.”

Light nodded his head. He clapped Teru on the shoulder and leaned down to kiss Sayu’s cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re my darling little sister.”

Sayu watched him leave and tried not to think. She looked instead at Teru and laughed a little at the way he was holding his son.

“Come and sit here,” she said. “Hold him like this.”

The baby had tiny tufts of dark hair on his head and he reminded Sayu a tiny bit of old baby pictures she’d seen of herself. It was sort of nice to think that the baby might look like her. She could see something of Teru about him though. Something of Teru about his jaw line and nose. He might be a rather handsome boy when he got older.

“He’s lovely,” Teru said. “He looks very like you.”

It was the first time he’d mentioned her looks without mentioning Light’s too. Sayu felt a strange feeling inside her. 

“We must name him,” Teru said. “Did … did you think of what you wanted?”

Sayu closed her eyes. She tried to think of something happy, something nice. Something that would shed off all the misery, that wouldn’t taint her new son’s life. A memory suddenly surfaced; a huge, embarrassed smile and soft dark hair. Something happy and hopeful and bouncy.

“Touta,” she said. “Let’s call him Touta.”

“All right,” Teru agreed readily. “Touta.”

He put an arm around her as she cradled the boy. His arm was warm and oddly safe and Sayu found herself nestling into him a little, stroking little Touta’s cheek. He made a tiny gurgling noise and his little eyelashes fluttered. She automatically tightened her grip a little and Teru’s hand tightened around her arm. They were a family.

Sayu wasn’t quite sure if this feeling would last for long. Maybe it was just another lie caused by the need to bond over the child. But no matter what it was and how long it was there for, she felt that she could enjoy it while it while it was there.


End file.
